I spend a lot of my time thinking about sex. About screwing with abandon and getting all the pleasures I want. That's not all I think about. Sometimes -- remembering that I am in my middle-ages now -- I think about what sex means to me and why its so important.
I also reflect on why men insist on me using a word like pussy. Or cunt. Readers know that I refer another name to describe my genitals. But it seems that some men need women to comply and submit even on something so basic as how we describe our own bodies.
Its much more pleasant to think about sex and the exciting things I can experience. What should a woman like me want? What about the act of taking a facial? Some women have told me that they feel scared if a man suggests shooting his stuff on their face. But I very willingly went to my knees and urged my young lover to shoot his big load all over my face.
Does that mean I have crossed a line? Or did that happen when I suggested anal sex to Brady? I recently had an unintended lesbian experience with my friend, Jill. I don't feel like that is crossing a line, at all. On the other hand, it certainly gives me the chance to expand my sexual lifestyle.
Those experiences, and many others, remind me of the wonderful choices I have made. It is so very satisfying to know that I have such intense pleasure. Many in society would condemn me if they knew. But I don't have any problems with being an older woman who seeks out young men, boys younger than my own daughter, to lure to my bed. The excitement and the sex are beyond anything I have known. I am determined not to surrender myself to a normal, middle-aged life, just yet.
At first, I told myself that it was a reaction to my husband leaving me for a younger woman. An opportunity came along and I acted rashly. That first young man was a reminder of the freedoms of my youth. Back then, none of us gave thought to what society might say. We were horny and wanting to experience the promise of sex. I let young men take me to bed and use me and they taught me a lot about sex and my body.
Sex with my husband never reached those levels of excitement. And it only became more routine and boring as the years progressed. I don't know if he enjoyed better sex with his younger woman before she dumped him. I do know that he made no effort to improve our married sex life.
So I have no regrets about my choices. It was incredibly tempting to take to my bed men of that tender age. From the first time I found it to be very satisfying. I stopped thinking about my husband. I only have one use for him. Instead I think only about the joy these young men bring me and how well they all learn to pleasure me.
Like most males, they are so grateful to be allowed to touch a woman and to be touched. The young ones get so excited they don't seem to care about the age difference. Happily, l keep myself in great shape with firm, shapely thighs and butt. Of course, my big, perky C-cup boobs also ensure they are keen.
I choose young men who keep me excited and aroused every day. HI think about my boys even during my working day. I worry that I have sex on my brain - I have never masturbated as avidly as I do these days.
I've never had so much wonderful screwing either. Is it too much? Have I done the right thing? Not by seducing these boys, these almost men. They fill a need that I'd never imagined I could feel. I crave them. But is it wrong? Well, I do believe that I am doing a favour for those boys. And for their girlfriends and their future wives. No boring married sex for those young women after I have taught my boys to be men and to be skilled lovers.
Teaching boys of that age to give oral pleasure? Letting them experiment with different positions for screwing? And what about 69s and tit-fucking? I never did those things with my husband. And not even when I was their age. Back then I had the desire but not the confidence.
Now I have the confidence. And the knowledge. I know my body is better than many of the young girls they'd normally pursue. I think my boobs are my best asset, perky and almost C-cup since I had them fixed. Though I work hard on my body and keeping my legs strong and shapely and my bottom rounded and firm. I like the look of it when I am wearing a g-string. It seems my young men like it as well. I'm keeping my light brown hair a little shorter now -- shoulder length. My skin is in good condition with hardly any wrinkles. I have been lucky.
Yet, I want still more from my young men. I want this lifestyle to continue. After all, the wonder of young men is their boundless sexual energy -- as if they can never get enough.
But the greatest wonder is their powerful, throbbing dicks. A young penis is an amazing object. When I have one in my hand, or my mouth or inside my sex, its as if the boy is transferring his sexual energy to me. It makes me feel so horny and needy and willing to give him everything he wants.
And to think I had the chance of two young men -- and their lovely cocks -- at the same time. I must have been crazy, out of my mind. But the chance was there and I convinced them to try a threesome with me. It was the same as when I so rashly took young Ryan to my bed that first night. Luckily, Brady and his friend were eager and well-behaved. I remember feeling calm and I control. Even when it came to their dicks.
Oh yes, it was a most incredible experience to touch them both, feel them throbbing for me. And to experience the extra loads of semen as they both shot so manfully, excite and aroused by an older woman.
Of course, a boy with an erection is also about his power over me. His hard-on is his tool, his weapon. It is his identity and his focus. His manhood. I feel it pulse and throb, almost alive by itself, and I sense that I am ready to submit to it. With that perfect instrument he can penetrate me, fuck me. And he can unleash the contents of his balls -- shooting his powerful, virile, baby-making seed
Now I realise that I crave their semen. I can see that I've always had a "thing" for a man's stuff. Its not just his orgasm and his shooting that make me excited. I've always loved a man shooting his load -- watching, feeling, tasting it. It's a magical moment of such intense pleasure for him. You can see in his face and his eyes the way he gets so focused on that moment of his eruption. And the feeling of triumph and control and reward is so incredible. Because, as women know, we made that happen and it was because of us that now the man is feeling so pleased and satisfied. And even if he won't admit it, the guy is feeling at least a little bit grateful.
Like that day with Brady and Chris. They did everything I wanted since it was their chance to live out their fantasies -- an invitation for screwing with a horny, older woman and a threesome. It was so easy to reward them, letting them shot their loads on me and in me.
You see, I crave sexual satisfaction with my young lovers. When a young man who performs for me, he satisfies not only my physical needs but the aching in my soul.
But there is something else, besides. Something primal that is about more than his orgasm.
What I want is his stuff -- his semen, jizz, whatever. That amazing fluid that contains all his baby-making potential. It came to me after my first experience with Clayton. How wonderful it was when he shared his orgasm with me and sprayed me with his stuff. Yes, that was the highlight -- the big shots of his sticky, white fluid that seemed to stain my skin. And the scent of his stuff that filled my nostrils in that small bathroom.
When a boy cums for me, shoots his manly fluid, it's a triumph for me. A moment of conquest. Its his surrender to me - even if he considers it a victory. The pulsing of his shaft as he shoots over and over. The force of his shots as they land on my skin. The flooding of my mouth before I swallow. The way he fills my vag, his virile stuff shooting so dangerously close to my womb. The wet warmth as his stuff oozes from my vag after he has screwed me. The tightening against my skin as his wonderful stuff cools and dries.
Women don't talk or write much about these feelings. I know that some women even find semen to be messy or yucky. But I never want to use a condom again when having sex with a man -- especially not one of my lovely boys.
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It was these thoughts that filled my head as I prepared for Matthew to visit me for the first time. I knew I needed Matt. I was confident that he would feel the same way. But I wasn't going to screw him that first time. I had been thinking about my Clayton and our very first sexual experience.
I knew what I wanted from Matthew. I was super ready. But I stayed in control, at first inviting him to meet for coffee and then, almost at the last minute, sending a suggestion that he "might like to visit my apartment" instead. That's not to say I didn't have some nerves and I felt a little bit of relief when he sent me a message agreeing.
I opened the door to this handsome, beautiful young man. He was wearing a loose-fitting T-shirt and nice jeans. He didn't seem nervous. Then again, he really could not have guessed what I had planned.
